Randy Robbins is an exceptional friend of mine. When I caught myself replaying his latest track "Listen" over and over again with a tear in my eye and a revitalized heart, I knew it had touched a special chord.
Randy and I met in 2006 when I literally fell into him during our training as waiters at a large chain Italian restaurant. He was a fairly athletic dude and a stranger. I remember being worried in that first moment of his reaction. However, instead of getting irritated with my clumsiness, he greeted me with a hand up and a grin. Since then he's been one of the truest friends that I could ask for.
He's the kind of friend that will roll out for a Halloween party in homemade costumes with full confidence. The kind of friend that doesn't need to sugarcoat his feedback. The kind of friend that will beat his chest to remind you he's a man and get you fired up as well when you need to get in touch with your inner caveman. The kind of friend that challenges you to an impromptu wrestling match and still gives you grief for the souvenir mark on your wall. The kind of friend that will drop what he's doing and come down to help you pack up your mother's house without asking for anything in return. He's an exceptional friend.
Since our days of waiting tables for tips our professional paths have taken different directions. My road has taken me down a fairly safe, yet still exciting route. I've been blessed with several opportunities that were a function of timing as much as my own ability to end up in my current role, a position with a great company that allows me to focus on a passion.
Randy's main priority has always been his music. All of his actions have an end game of "how will this help my music?" That focus is something I've always admired. A lot of us have had stray thoughts enter our heads of "Oh man, wouldn't it be cool if I could just sing/act/draw/write/work out/etc. all day for a living?" Few of us have the stomach to follow this through and endure all the highs and lows of that rollercoaster. Randy is strapped in and fully committed to his ride. He's willing to do what it takes to get by (building fences, cutting concrete, working for a wholesale supercorp) while pouring his heart into doing what it takes to progress his craft. He has great highs like networking with top talent in the industry and getting glimpses behind the curtain most of us won't get. He has great lows like having to get up at 4 AM for a job he's not really jazzed about or bouts of self doubt that can randomly punch someone in the gut and take you down for months at a time.
Through the highs and the lows though he is following his own path and chasing down his passion with the tenacity of a stubborn bulldog. He won't let this go. He won't sell himself, his talents, or his opportunities short. His journey is a reminder of prioritizing why we're all here.
This song is haunting in its frustration, it's hope, it's tenacity. Even if you're not out there completely on your own, it's message of being true to yourself and leaving it all out on the field resonates. The spritzing of your soul that the smooth bars and bright delivery leave behind can't be denied. It's a refreshing feeling when you feel like you could use some relief from carrying the weight of worldly expectations on your back.
The world does a job of beating us up, of taking people that don't follow traditional paths of success and just slamming them day after day with doubts, rejection, frustrations that would subdue normal people into getting in line. This song is an anthem to those weary travelers. It's an inviting cabin with a wise old woman that has a bowl of stew, a hug, and a reassuring "you're doing the right thing" whispered in your ear as you rest your feet and get out of the storm for a bit. It's a reminder to follow and chase down the message in your own heart, not to be bound by the expectations of others.
I'm thankful for friends like these. These are the kind of people that are going to leave their mark. They aren't the ones on their deathbeds with "if only I had..." on their lips. We've all made enough mistakes to give in. The ones that don't are the ones that inspire. Their journeys make the risks and stretches that I take in my own life small in comparison. They remind me to pop my head up every once in a while to ensure the finish line I'm heading toward is something I can be proud of once I arrive.
Thank you to all I know out there that are following it in.
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